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Topic: [F] The Premiere (Read 5137 times)

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I'm busy and suffering from writer's block right now, but I hope to put up part 2 eventually.

Here's the prompt I started with:

-A pair of journalists -- female/female, male/male, male/female -- are invited to an exclusively private viewing of the latest and greatest show of some sort (be it opera, musical, movie, or something of a similarly intimate nature) in order to get information for the latest column they are writing. However, while Character A is faring well, Character B is in the throes of a bad head cold. Character A tries their best to keep them quiet -- offering them tissues, quietly shushing them, perhaps even teasing them about their situation -- while trying not to let the interruptions disrupt the show.

Please comment and let me know what you all think!

Damn, it’s cold, Ryan thought.

The raccoon did a better job of hiding his discomfort then most, though. While other city-dwellers shuffled through the streets and alleys grumpily, occasionally pausing to adjust scarves, mittens, tail socks, and jackets, Ryan moved at a faster pace, his hands in his pockets, sometimes whistling a few notes just to watch his breath condense in the icy air. Most people ignored him; others stole glances as he passed, clearly wondering if he was completely insane. None of this bothered Ryan, however. Not many young men go into journalism, and fewer still have known that they wanted to write for the newspaper since they were six years old. He was okay with being considered a bit of a wierdo by the general public; it was certainly nothing new. The raccoon barely gave most passerby a second thought, his mind focused on the task at hand. He came to the front of a typical apartment complex, stopped to glance around, and then proceeded up a flight of stairs, finally coming to rest as he rang the bell on a particular door.

“Damn this cold,” Lydia muttered.

At least, that’s what she wanted to say, but her heavily congested muzzle corrupted the words into something closer to “Dab dis gode.” She then proceeded to cough harshly several times, before being quite surprised by the sound of her doorbell ringing. The rather small and scrawny hyena-girl jumped at the sound, her little yelp of fear morphing into a surprised screech as she slid off of her comfortable place on the couch, accompanied by her wrap of blankets, pillow, and tissue box, hitting the floor with a dull thump. A second later she scrambled to her feet, kicked off a stubborn coil of blankets clinging to her leg, and half hopped, half fell the rest of the short distance from her sofa to the door. With a slight adjustment to her bathrobe, she undid the lock and partially opened the door, poking her head out through the crack.

“Hello, Lyd, are you ready to—oh my, are you all right?”

Ryan noticed his co-writer’s bright pink nose, matching the color of her fluffy bathrobe, almost immediately.

“I thought you would be ready to leave by now. We have to be at the theatre in an hour, remember?”

Normally, Ryan would take the opportunity presented to lightly tease his friend about her dislike of any technology that didn’t exist in the 20th century, but in this case he was more concerned with the first half of her statement.

“When did you get sick? Come on, Lydia, we’re a team. We write our column together. People read our work to see us bounce back and forth off of each other, and we can’t do that if only one of us sees this musical.”

The raccoon considered that for a moment. “Well, this is the special preliminary showing we’re going to. There should only be a few people there besides us. You’ll do just fine.” His voice became more desperate. “Please, Lydia. I need your help.”

The hyena did nothing but sniffle sharply, meeting his gaze.

Ryan decided that it was time to change tactics. Putting on a pleasant smile, he began.

“If I were sick, I know that a particular friend and co-worker of mine would still drag me off to wherever we needed to be, because I know that this individual has a great respect for the concept of deadlines and the importance of putting out a weekly column every week.”

Ryan’s smile doubled in size. “Great! Why don’t you change into some clothes and while you’re doing that I’ll run down to the corner store and pick up some tissue packs for you, does that sound all right?”

The hyena merely nodded slowly, rubbing her nose again. This time, the tickle in her muzzle rose out of her control, and her body lurched forward with a sudden, loud “Hap’TISH!”

“Bless you!” Ryan called over his shoulder, already halfway down the first flight of stairs.

With another sigh, Lydia shut the door and began to change into her nice, dark blue dress, stopping to use a few more tissues and sneeze a couple more times.

“Ap’TISH! Hep-Hap-HAP’TISSHH!!”

She could feel herself growing sicker by the minute, but she reminded herself that her co-writer had a point and, in any case, a promise is a promise.

Hopefully this should be a nice surprise for the handful of people who wanted me to finish this, but I finally got the inspiration to write the remainder of my tale.

I also have noticed a lack of new [F] stuff around here recently, and this is my way of knocking that down a peg.

Please let me know if you like it!

Neither of them had a car, and parking in a city like this was at a premium in any case, so when Ryan returned the pair walked the five blocks from Lydia’s apartment to the large building whose sign proudly proclaimed it to be not just the city’s theater, but “Theater and Performing Arts Center”. Lydia coughed some on the trip and used most of a pack of tissues wiping and blowing her nose, but she was by far not the only one engaged in such activities on the busy sidewalks, and she didn’t sneeze once. Ryan was feeling rather confident that this would turn out alright after all by the time they walked through a door into the merciful heating of the theater lobby, lowering the hoods of their jackets. He checked his watch. Ten minutes until the start of the show—later than the punctual raccoon would have liked, but plenty serviceable. He felt his confidence ebb a little, though; as he looked up from his wrist, the last person at the ticket desk was waved inside, leaving the way completely open. He’d been hoping to rush himself and Lydia through so that nobody would get too suspicious of her, but clearly that was not going to happen.

The employee at the desk, a red squirrel with bright eyes and a wide smile, seemed to perk up even more as they approached, greeting them with a light, lilting voice.

“Welcome! Are you two here for our special performance?”

“Yes, we are,” confirmed Ryan. Lydia wasn’t the most social person most days, and her congested voice would be in instant giveaway, so they had already agreed that he would do the talking. “I have the tickets right here . . .”

As Ryan fished the two tickets provided to them by the newspaper out of his pocket, behind him Lydia began to lift a hand to her face. It was almost to her nose when she lurched forward, sneezing a harsh “HAP’TISSCH!” Ryan winced at both the noise and the little bit of spray he felt hit the back of his neck.

“Bless you!” The squirrel almost sang the words. Lydia’s eyes opened partway and she gave her a grateful glance, not daring to try and say “Thanks.” A hint of worry appeared on the squirrel’s face as Lydia let out another quick pair, into her hands this time. “AP’TISSCH! HEP’TIKSSCH!” Ryan winced again; his friend’s penchant for sneezing in threes was another thing he’d usually just lightly tease her about, but that was typically during the spring when the trees caused her hayfever to act up. This time, the circumstances were more serious.

“Are you going to be all right, miss?”

“She’ll be fine,” Ryan replied, trying to sound as dismissive as possible. “It’s just, uh,” his brain worked frantically, searching for an excuse. Then, he found it. A breath to begin his next sentence caused him to notice the thick mass of different perfumes and colognes filling the air, no doubt lingering from the other guests. “. . . she has some issues with strong perfumes and such, and this” he waved his arm a little for emphasis “is getting to her, I think.” He shrugged. “Canines and their sensitive noses, you know how it goes.” That part, at least, was true—Ryan had known enough canines over the years to know that breathing in this kind of air would be at least a fairly unpleasant experience for them.

He handed the tickets to the squirrel, looking over his shoulder at his friend. “Isn’t that right, Lydia?”

The hyena nodded vigorously behind her cupped hands.

The employee didn’t question them further, she just tore the tickets along their perforated lines and handed the stubs back to Ryan before waving them inside with a singsong “Enjoy the show!” Thanking her, Ryan and Lydia went through another set of doors into the theater proper.

Following the number on their tickets, Ryan found their seats. Since this was a special, low-attendance showing, only the center section was being used, but the two journalists had been placed all the way to the right of the main block of seats, up in the back. Ryan didn’t have a problem with this; they would have felt like peasants at the royal ball next to most of the other special guests, and in any case with Lydia in her current state, the fewer people to closely examine them, the better. As they took off their jackets and placed them on the backs of their seats, Ryan glanced around. He estimated that the nearest other audience members were about fifteen seats away. Certainly too far to notice anything unusual about the two of them if they glanced over, but close enough that they were sure to notice if Lydia started sneezing again . . .

Lydia settled into her chair, withdrawing a small notepad, a pen, and a fresh pack of tissues from her handbag. Taking a tissue from the near-empty pack she was currently using, she gave her nose a soft blow, finishing with a wipe of her irritated nostrils. Even in the low light, Ryan could see that her nostrils were turning red, standing out against the pink of the rest of her nose and certainly a far cry from the healthy black they were both supposed to be.

“Lyd,” began Ryan, keeping his voice low, “are you going to be all right?”

She opened her mouth to answer, before suddenly seizing up with a breath, her head tilting back and her ears flattening. Tears formed in her green eyes, and they almost closed before the hyena froze and exhaled slowly. False alarm. “I’b nod sure, Ryad,” she replied equally softly through her congestion. “I’b jusd so . . . tiggly in by dose.” She wiggled and flared her nostrils to accentuate her point.

“As long as you try to keep it down,” he said. “I’m sorry I have to ask that, but do you think you can manage?”

“Baybe.” *sniff*

“Good. Thank you so much for doing this. Trust me, I’ll owe you a favor when this is all over.”

Those green eyes sparkled with some of the mischief of the passive-aggressive Lydia he knew. “You will. Ad I’ll be sure to gollegt.” Despite her viral misery, the hyena allowed herself a friendly smile.

He pointed to the unopened tissue pack in her lap. “How many more of those do you have?” Even though he’d bought her a few spares, she’d taken several of her own, and he hadn’t been religiously monitoring her use thus far.

“Four bore.”

“Will that be enough?”

“Brobably.” *sniff* “I hobe.”

At that moment, the lights went out and the show began. Lydia began taking notes almost immediately, pausing at irregular intervals to wipe her runny nose. Ryan wasn’t much one for detailed notes taken during events. He’d write something up on his computer when he got home.

As the first half of the musical went on, Lydia burned through her tissues at a feverish pace. She wasn’t the type of person who was always reduced to lengthy, helpless fits of sneezing by colds or her allergies, but she was one of the unfortunate souls who would always manage to get very congested and yet have an incessantly dripping nose, almost as if her nasal passages and sinuses had decided to produce two very different thicknesses of mucous at the same time. Although Lydia was able to keep herself from sneezing during the first half of the show, between wiping her nostrils and giving soft blows that never relieved her stuffiness or got rid of the tickle in the back of her muzzle she went through a pack every twenty minutes, with neither her nor Ryan noticing this until intermission was called at the one-hour mark.

Lydia was almost in a panic. “I didid realize how baddy dissues . . .” her voice trailed off as she gaped at the single unopened pack held in her hand.

But Ryan had a plan. “Look, Lyd, there aren’t too many people here today, so why don’t we wait for a few minutes for everyone else to get back from the restrooms, and then you run to the ladies’ room. You can blow your nose, throw out the used tissues, and maybe bring back some paper towels or toilet paper so you can have a little extra.”

Lydia took to this idea enthusiastically, and after watching guests filter back into the main room for a few minutes she darted out the door, making her way back to her seat just before the lights dimmed again. Opening her handbag, she showed Ryan a large wad of toilet paper.

Whatever Lydia had done in the bathroom didn’t satisfy her muzzle for long, however. Soon her nose resumed its profuse runniness, and by the last ten minutes she’d sniffled and snuffled her way through every disposable piece of paper she had.

And then Ryan noticed her eyes starting to flutter.

As Lydia was putting her last used wad of toilet paper in one of her jacket pockets, her ears suddenly flattened and her head tilted back, muzzle pointing high into the air.

“HEH-“

Ryan quickly reached over and firmly pinched his friend’s itchy nose, hoping to muffle the sound.

“-PXXXXT!”

Lydia’s green eyes popped half-open in surprise, still streaming tears, and met his as she realized what had happened. Knowing that there were more coming, Ryan refused to budge his hand. Sure enough, about fifteen seconds later her breathing shifted from panting to catch her breath to slower, deeper inhales, those pretty, watery eyes slid closed again, and . . .

“HEP’TXXXXXT! HEP’TXXXXXT! HEP’TXXXXXT! HEP’TXXXXXT! HEP’TXXXXXT!”

Lydia not only finished the one triple but belted out another altogether. She opened her eyes, looking surprised and sheepish at the same time. As she and Ryan made eye contact, processing the event, the grand finale began. Clapping echoed throughout the theater, although far softer than it would have had the whole place been full. The raccoon and hyena quickly joined in as the performers cycled through the traditional end-of-show salute to the audience below them. As soon as they were finished, the two journalists were some of the first to file their way outside. Lydia ducked into the restroom again, coming out looking far more relieved. The two of them made for the door.

“Good night!” called the chipper squirrel staff member from behind them.

“Good night!” Ryan called back over his shoulder.

Lydia managed to hold in any more sneezes until they were several blocks away. As they came back up on her apartment, Ryan stepped in front of her.

“Lyd, thank you so much for coming with me.”

“Odly for a fred lige you,” she snuffled. “You owe be.” A friendly wink this time.

“Yes, I know. Name it whenever. Can I call tomorrow so we can start on our column?”

“Sure.”

“Great. Thanks again, and I hope you feel better soon.”

With that, Lydia slid past him, giving him a final smile before she closed the door. Ryan headed for home.

Elsewhere, a certain squirrel was also turning in for the evening. After brushing her teeth, changing out of her work clothes, and hopping in bed, she paused. Suddenly she lurched forward with a series of sneezes.

“HEK’TCHIIEW! HEK’TCHIIEW! HEK’TCHIIEW! HEK’TCHIIEW!”

She slumped back with a low groan, wondering how she got sick and hoping she’d be better in a few days. The theater had already told all their employees that they had better be ready to work the night of the new show’s public release that weekend.

I love hyenas! I do know that hyenas aren't canines or felines but their own family called Hyaenidae. They do have good noses like canines, and in spotted hyenas, the females are bigger and stronger than the males. It's kinda rare seeing a hyena sneeze, and i do wish there were more spotted hyena sneezefics. This one was really good! It had a lot of sneezes coming from the hyena, and it's way better than the ones I make.

I love hyenas! I do know that hyenas aren't canines or felines but their own family called Hyaenidae. They do have good noses like canines, and in spotted hyenas, the females are bigger and stronger than the males. It's kinda rare seeing a hyena sneeze, and i do wish there were more spotted hyena sneezefics. This one was really good! It had a lot of sneezes coming from the hyena, and it's way better than the ones I make.

Heh, yeah, I was underinformed as to the classification of hyenas when I wrote this. Too late to do anything about it now.

I did know that female hyenas are the bigger and tougher ones, and specifically didn't make Lydia that way. I imagine her as the runt of her family, she probably has a bigger, meaner sister who played sports in school while Lydia was writing for the school newspaper.

Glad you liked the story! I've always wanted to revisit these two, but I haven't thought of a decent plot for them.